I’m always on the lookout for work. Since I ran from my place in the world of salary-paying employment, I have let Fate throw me into bizarre and probably unsuitable positions, and I’ve learned a lot.
So, when I found a job advert tempting me in a local café, of course I took a photo.
“Wow!” I was already imagining it.
“How cool would this be! Driving around the countryside through the night, grooving under a starry sky with deer and hedgehogs as my companions.”
I didn’t really give much thought to the substantive task, ie the delivery of a local newspaper to folk living in the back of beyond. Having already debuted as a telephone directory deliverer in SW Ireland, I pretty much assumed I could cope with any such activity.
I nearly fell at the first hurdle. The number I called directed me to another number, which was given in such a delightfully impenetrable Breton accent that it took me nearly an hour of listening to the recorded message to actually get the correct digits. The name was still a mystery.
Finally, I set up an interview. Well, I call it an interview. M. Aimé greeted me like a friend and waved away my attempt to show him my driving license.
“I trust you” he shouted, “and I don’t want to see your Social Security number, or read any references”
“When can you start?”
In retrospect, this should perhaps have given me pause for thought. There was no queue of applicants, I was in a field of one.
We agreed that I would accompany him for 3 nights to learn the route and letterbox locations.
We would start the following day!
Moonlight in My Life 